


Running Out of Time

by matimae



Category: Prodigal Son (TV 2019)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blood Loss, Blood and Injury, Buried Alive, Gen, Hiding an injury, Hurt/Comfort, I haven't whumped this boy in a while soooo here we go!, I make Alone Time Boy Feel More Alone a ha ha, Isolated, Natural Disasters, Sad, Trappped, Whump, Whumptober 2020, collapsed building, earthquake, set sometime s1, things go really great for Malcolm per usual
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-04
Updated: 2020-10-04
Packaged: 2021-03-07 16:40:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,858
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26760772
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/matimae/pseuds/matimae
Summary: Malcolm is on a day off. Relaxing at his favorite coffee shop gets turned upside down by a little ol' thing called Mother Nature.
Relationships: Gil Arroyo & Malcolm Bright, Malcolm - Relationship, Malcolm Bright & Jessica Whitly
Comments: 2
Kudos: 43
Collections: Whumptober 2020





	Running Out of Time

**Author's Note:**

> written for whumptober day no.4 (buried alive, collapsed building)

Malcolm is on a day off.

His first in weeks, actually. He was sprawled across the corner booth of his favorite coffee shop in downtown New York, a little place Ainsley and he would frequent together.

It wasn’t the high-class kind of place that a certain Jessica Whitly would be caught dead in, but he loved it. He was two cups of tea into the kettle that he had bought earlier that morning, (he discovered some time ago that actual coffee and anxiety was _not_ a mix that he particularly liked), and Malcolm was settled in with an old newspaper clipping of an unsolved case.

Not what most people would find to be particularly relaxing reading material, but Malcolm needed something for his brain to fixate on, and what better than an unsolved mystery? Of all his forced days off, today’s was actually going pretty good.

Of course, just thinking that had to put a ‘Malcolm luck’ jinx on the situation.

An earthquake.

The supporting beams of dear ol’ coffee shop were no longer too happy, and they collapsed under the pressure of the earthquake. The two story’s above them came crashing down, bringing down a blanket of darkness.

Lots of darkness.

Malcolm’s first thought was that he was lucky to be alive, a thought he’d had his whole life. But judging by his knowledge he had about collapsed buildings, he was running out of time. How did he know so much about collapsed buildings? Curse his random extensive knowledge…

He lay there in the dark for a while, silent.

Until someone called out to see if everyone was okay. Malcolm instinctively replied, “I’m fine!” even though he didn’t know if he _was_ fine.

His shoulder was pinned down under a slab of cement, he could feel the edge of it cutting into his shoulder blade. What was bothering him though, was his leg. It hurt. A shit ton.

Malcolm tried to get a good look at it, but he couldn't even sit up to see what was the cause.

It was broken most likely. Impaled, maybe.

He tried not to think about it. After all, he wasn’t the only one who was hurt. One of the baristas was unconscious but still breathing, and the other was trying to do some damage control. Or as much damage control as anyone could do in the dark.

Everyone was alive though, or everyone they could see. As time went on their eyes got adjusted to the light and they could see more, shapes, and figures at least.

...

Malcolm had been through many disasters in his life. Too many for one person. But, never an earthquake.

Until now.

The cement prison around them must be interfering with the phone signal. If the frustrated and anguished cries of the people around him trying and failing to reach loved ones told him anything, that is.

Malcolm didn't even try to reach down and try.

Partly because he could hardly move, and partly because he knew it was no use. Someone outside had surely seen the collapse. Help was surely on the way already. They just had to wait.

Malcolm wondered if Gil was on duty...

He wondered if he'd get the call and show up. Maybe he just wished.

He wanted nothing more than Gil with him, to tell him that everything would be okay.

A throbbing pain jolted through his leg again and ran up his thigh reminding him just the trouble he was in, he was distracted for a moment by a buzz coming from his back pants pocket, _his phone_.

He wasn't even sure if he could reach it.

But if he was getting a signal he couldn't pass up that chance to answer, he felt like it was more his duty at this point.

Fumbling and grunting he got it out and with ever shaky hands he answered the call.

"Malcolm dear, how are you? This earthquake has been dreadful, I lost one of my finest vases. Such a shame. Oh! And the buildings downtown- such a tragedy-"

"Mother," he interrupted before she could continue any longer. His voice was a lot weaker then even he expected. "I'm there."

"You're...on duty? Downtown? Why would they need you to consult for a natural disaster?"

"Mother- I'm _there_. I was in the coffee shop when it went down. They haven't dug us out yet-" Malcolm swears he wasn't trying to be dramatic but a coughing fit hit him which left him out of breath.

"Mother?" he wheezes out.

"Yes, I, yes I'm here. Are you...are you okay? Are people there yet? To get you out? Malcolm, tell me you're fine."

"Yes, I'm, I'm fine. Don't worry Mother, I'm sure they're working on a way to get us all out safely. But for now, we might be here a while." Malcolm paused and tried to still his shaking hand- he didn't know if it was the usual psychogenetic tremor or symptoms of shock from his wounds, but it was just good to hear his Mother's voice.

"Whatever happens, I love you. Okay? Make sure Ainsley knows the same. And Gil."

"Malcolm don't you dare talk like that! You're going to be fine! You're gonna live an exceptionally long and _happy_ life with your parakeet and your murders and _you're never setting foot into a coffee shop again_ but-"

"Mother." Malcolm pleaded, his voice firm but on the edge of breaking. "Please."

"Yes. Of course, I'll let them know. They already _do know_ , just, don't lose hope, we're gonna get you out of there. You're tougher than any other man I know, you've persevered through so much…"

And maybe this is the time when I don't. He thought to himself, not daring to place such a burden as his inner monologue on his mother.

His phone was cutting in and out, as quickly as his luck has come, it was gone.

"I'm losing the signal, I'm sorry, I love you," Malcolm could hear chopped up protests come from the other side before the line went completely dead and he felt a tear run down his face.

He had always been the one to push people away and self isolate- but nothing felt worse than this. Nothing felt more alone.

…

"What are you saying Jessica?" asked an exasperated Gil.

"I'm saying that you need to get everyone who works for the city downtown NOW because Malcolm is trapped under a collapsed building and no one's doing anything to get him out!"

Gil was more than used to Jessica's hot temper, so familiar that he knew that Jessica never got herself worked up over nothing.

A pit started to form in the Lieutenant’s stomach.

If she was right then Malcolm really _was_ in danger and they were running out of time. No disaster is solved without keeping your cool. Gil would have to keep his head on straight.

"There are already teams on site of the wreckage downtown, they're working as fast as they can. If they do one wrong move, more of the building could come down and kill any number of survivors. We have to be careful." he said matter o-factly

"I'll head over and see what I can do. He's gonna be okay." Gil put a reassuring arm on her shoulder and she seemed to relax a bit.

But Gil's insecurity was secretly nagging away at him- what if this time he lost him forever?

…

"Sir? Mister? In the corner? You still with us?"

It took the third time of the woman calling out to him to Malcolm to register it was _him_ that she was trying to get the attention of.

"Me? Fine," he brushed off quickly, not even knowing what to say.

"You keep saying that but you don't look too fine." At this point, the woman was crossing the disastrous terrain to get closer to Malcolm and see if he really _was_ okay.

She wasn't entirely expecting the man to be as battered as he was, completely pinned down and a good deal of blood oozing from several different places.

"Shit! I- you said you were fine?" she said in disbelief while getting closer to him to help.

Malcolm looked up at the stranger in his own sense of confusion.

"Yeah, you're clearly in shock. Okay I don't want to move anything around that's gonna release pressure but you might lose that arm if you stay under there too long."

"Are you some sort of, collapsed-building-getter-outer-person?" he asked, maybe slightly delirious from the pain that he was denying, but also he was never one to shy away from lightening the mood with a humorous conversation.

"Well, I guess today I am." she sighed. She was worried about the man lay in front of her and it did nothing for her worry of them even getting out. "I work construction as my daytime gig, this is practically the same. Just...opposite."

Malcolm laughed.

It was unexpected to hear laughter in the circumstances- but she couldn't say it didn't put her heart a little more at ease. "Everyone's alive. I've been making my rounds. We've got some seriously injured but I'm confident we can all make it out of here," the woman offered. "True miracle if you ask me."

Malcolm swallowed and nodded in agreement, her words jumbled in the air, bumping into each other before falling down and Malcolm’s head swam with delirium.

Yeah.

Maybe he was ready to admit he wasn't fine.

“M’ tir’d...” he said, unable to form the words correctly anymore.

“Hey, hey, I know you’re tired, but you have to stay awake. Just listen to my voice, stay with me-”

Malcolm’s eyes were heavy, and he knew the lady was telling him he couldn’t sleep, but he just needed a little rest. Yeah. He’d just put his head down on the concrete for 1 minute and then he’d feel better. Just 60 seconds, that couldn’t hurt.

Malcolm’s most likely concussed brain tried to convince himself that he was making sound decisions, and the woman was desperately trying to save his arm and keep him awake at the same time, praying that help would come any moment.

Malcolm just traded one darkness for another as he passed out. When he woke up he was no longer pinned under the cement slab, and his arm now freely gushing, reigniting his light-headedness slipped him into another bought of unconsciousness.

He continued to be pulled in and out of this state, only vaguely aware of his surroundings changing when he felt his world moving around him and sudden flashing lights flooding his blurry vision.

…

Malcolm woke up this time to a clean, white, and blue room, quiet whispers in the background. He lifted his eyes to see he was surrounded by his family and his coworkers.

They're family at this point too, if he's being honest.

After lots of hugs and well wishes from everyone, Gil smiled softly down at Malcolm, who noticed new grey hairs in his Lieutenant. "Somehow I always knew the only way to get you in a bed, resting, was a citywide natural disaster."

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading! <3


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